“Hi hi-hi-hi! you’ll never overtake him.” the Vali shouts enthusiastically to the two horsemen as they start at full gallop after me, and which they laughingly repeat to me shortly afterward.  A very pleasant evening is spent at Mr. Hubbard’s house; after supper the ladies sing “Sweet Bye and Bye,” “Home, Sweet Home,” and other melodious reminders of the land of liberty and song that gave them birth.  Everything looks comfortable and homelike, and they have English ivy inside the dining-room trained up the walls and partly covering the ceiling, which produces a wonderfully pleasant effect.  The usual extraordinary rumors of my wonderful speeding ability have circulated about the city during the day and evening, some of which have happened to come to the ears of the missionaries.  One story is that I came from the port of Samsoon, a distance of nearly three hundred miles, in six hours, while an imaginative katir-jee, whom I whisked past on the road, has been telling the Sivas people an exaggerated story of how a genii had ridden past him with lightning-like speed on a shining wheel; but whether it was a good or an evil genii he said he didn’t have time to determine, as I went past like a flash and vanished in the distance.  The missionaries have four hundred scholars attending their school here at Sivas, which would seem to indicate a pretty flourishing state of affairs.  Their recruiting ground is, of I course, among the Armenians, who, though professedly Christiana really stand in more need of regeneration than their Mohammedan neighbors.  The characteristic condition of the average Armenian villager’s mind is deep, dense ignorance and moral gloominess; it requires more patience and perseverance to ingraft a new idea on the unimpressionable trunk of an Armenian villager’s intellect than it does to put up second-hand stove-pipe; and it is a generally admitted fact — i.e., west of the Missouri Elver — that anyone capable of setting up three joints of second-hand stove-pipe without using profane language deserves a seat in Paradise.  “Come in here a minute,” says Mr. Hubbard, just before our I departure for the night, leading the way into an adjoining room.; I “here’s shirts, underclothing, socks, handkerchiefs-everything;.! help yourself to anything you require; I know something about I travelling through this country myself. " But not caring to impose too much on good nature, I content myself with merely pocketing a strong pair of socks, that I know will come in handy.  I leave the bicycle at the mission over night, and in the morning, at Miss Chamberlain’s request, I ride round the school-house yard a few times for the edification of the scholars.  The greatest difficulty, I am informed, with Armenian pupils is to get them to take sufficient interest in anything to ask questions; it is mainly because the bicycle will be certain to awaken interest, and excite the spirit of inquiry among them, that I am requested to ride for their benefit.  Thus is the bicycle